The last few days have been a little rough. I'm trying so hard to pick myself up and be happier but this life I'm living makes it nearly impossible. Every day I wake up depressed. The first thing do is weigh myself then I go to the bathroom and then weigh myself again. And that number determines how I feel, if its lower: my depression subsides and I have a good day. If its higher: I'm more depressed than before and my day is shit.
Yesterday my friend and I went out on the town. We spent hours in the art museum in the city and while I was there I barely thought about my weight except when we passed a tiny girl with her boyfriend. She made me feel awful. But we had fun and took some pictures (that made me feel kinda bad too). Then we went to the really posh mall downtown and I had a bit of a breakdown. I was on the verge of tears the entire time. Looking at all the girls wandering around with their bags of tiny clothes that I can never wear and the boys that never look at me because Im ugly and fat; just couldnt take it. So we left there not long after and went to our favorite cafe where we know the owner and that was better. We had a bit of a talk about depression and life and it was all very serious. I don't know if it helped or not and tonight I'm supposed to go up to church with my parents to meet these boys that are giving us a tour of the place.
I don't know if anything has a point anymore or if anything will ever make me happy. I am afraid of trying things and finding out they won't work and being more down because nothing is working. Does that make sense? Am I pretty far gone?
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